


The Snow Queen

by MayaAodhan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Declarations Of Love, Kidnapped Dean, M/M, Mutual Pining, Snow, The Snow Queen - Freeform, dcminibang, fluffy feels, icy heart, nauseating fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaAodhan/pseuds/MayaAodhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating a case involving several disappearances and murders, Sam, Dean and Castiel are frustrated by a lack of leads. </p><p>When Dean goes missing in the same manner as the victims, Sam and Cas have to quickly figure out who has the man they both love. </p><p>When Cas figures out that it is the Snow Queen of fairytale legend who has Dean, it becomes a race against time to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean lifted the delicate glass ball from its dusty cardboard container. The strand of ribbon threaded through the top was delicate in his rough fingers. Dark ruby glass, coiled through with gold leaf, dulled a little with its own coating of dust spun slowly. 

He handed it over to the man standing beside him, who caught the ball in cloth covered hands. Castiel’s touch was gentle as he wiped the grime from the seventy year old ornaments Dean had found in a storeroom in the bunker. 

The scent of the pine tree Sam had picked up earlier was rich in the library. Several ornaments were already strung up by Sam. Etta James played on the record turntable, her silky tones singing of Christmas. From the kitchen, the smell of Dean’s baking was mouthwateringly good. 

Castiel passed the glass ornament on to Sam, who strung it up high. A strident ring distracted Sam though, as his mobile phone rang loud in his pocket. He checked it. 

“I gotta get this. Might have a lead on a case.” 

Dean just nodded and picked up the next box. He opened it, and a short laugh punctuated the silence after Sammy left the room, speaking quietly. 

“What is amusing?” Castiel asked. 

Dean silently picked up the elaborately dressed angel, halo’d and carrying a horn and showed Castiel, a grin lighting his features. It faded as Castiel studied the topper, taking it from his hands, no answering smile for the irony of the ornament on his face. 

“Oh.” Is Castiel’s only comment. 

“Cas? What’s wrong?” Dean set down the cardboard box.

“Nothing.” Castiel held the ornament out toward Dean. “It just reminded me of some…one.” 

Dean looked at the effeminate angel, long blonde hair, bright blue eyes turned upward. The wings were white, tiny real feathers outspread. But even he remembered the tale of Christmas. Gabriel bringing the message down to Mary and Joseph. “I’m sorry, Cas.” He glanced up to see Cas’s expression. He hurriedly set down the angel and reached out to touch Castiel’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey, are you alright?” 

“Thank you for including me in your traditions, Dean, but perhaps I should go and do more research regarding the whereabouts of Metatron.” Castiel’s jaw was clenched, his bright blue eyes wide and shining.

“Hey, it isn’t just ‘including’. You are part of the family. We want you here. I want you here.” Dean flushed a little as his words tumble over the other. “Take a break from the research. It’s nearly Christmas.” 

Castiel reached up, and curved his hand over Dean’s. For many long moments, they stood watching each other. Dean with his breath washing through slightly parted lips, and Castiel, blue eyes searching Dean’s expression for a hint, any… hint. 

“Guys? Garth says there looks like a case a little ways north of here in a town called Falls City, Nebraska.” Sam was staring at his phone, sending a rapid message via SMS. 

Dean dropped his hand, and stepped back from Castiel. “Falls City. That’s a couple hours north.”

“Yeah.” 

“What’s the case?” 

“Snowstorms. People murdered. People missing. Garth thinks there is something going really bad there.” 

Dean looked at Cas. “You in?” 

“You wish me to go with you?” 

“Yeah, Cas. Yeah I want you with us. Get yourself packed up okay?” 

Castiel nodded and moved on silent feet for the corridor. 

Sam glanced at Dean. “Everything okay there?” 

Dean prodded the angel tree topper. It teetered but didn’t topple. “Family feels get a little stronger this time of year. Why I didn’t want him sitting here alone while we took a road trip.” 

Sam nodded. “Let’s get going.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The case was a pain in the ass. 

Dean straightened his tie, heading into the Medical Examiner’s office. He had dropped Cas and Sammy off at the local library to do a little research while he volunteered to get the case notes for the murders. 

He wasn’t convinced there was even a case. People went missing in snowstorms just like any other weather. Homeless people left town, or went into shelters. Kids just hopped a bus after one too many arguments with the family. Wives skipped away from abusive husbands. 

He sighed. 

At least they weren’t far from home. 

 

Left scratching his head about the added details of the case, a copy of the reports in hand, Dean stood in the waiting room of the dour little building that housed the morgue, and fumbled his phone from his pocket. 

His finger hovered over Sam’s name. He changed his mind and tapped Cas’. He rapidly typed in a message. 

_How’s the research?_

A few seconds later the reply came through. 

_Nwsppr rpts frm 20y. Hpnd b4. U?_

Dean scowled. Cas had taken up SMS speak. Brilliant. 

“Careful as you go, agent.” The receptionist interrupted his reverie. “Looks like it’s about to come down hard out there.” 

Dean nodded. “Thanks. Looks like I will just bunk down at the hotel while my partner gets done with his business.” 

“Might be a good idea.” The receptionist nodded politely. 

Dean pushed open the inner door and shivered as the cool air from the gently swinging outer doors washed over him. He ran his thumb over the keyboard. 

He ignored the first sting on his cheek, brushing it off with the back of his hand. The second, third and fourth stings were harder to ignore. And he frowned, lifting his head to glance around him. 

The cold was seeping past the ineffectual fabric of his suit. Baby was just …there. But somehow it seemed much further. Much harder to get to. The stings were too hard to count now. He lifted his arm to protect his face, and hunched against it, the glow of his phone screen still bright in his palm. He flinched as something pinched hard at the back of his neck. His screen flashed. 

Through a quick zephyr swirling the snowflakes into a wild eddy, Dean lowered an arm and squinted, _was that a person out here with him?_

“Hello?”

She was wraithlike, crystals on her brow, and sparkling in her hair. The skin around her eyes and her lips was blue. Her fingertips, held out to him in a beckoning gesture, were dark, tipped with razor nails. Her eyes were pure demon black. 

Her black fingertips caressed his cheek and a path of warmth trailed across his frozen skin. 

“Beautiful mortal man…” she whispered, drawing near. 

His thumb fumbled with his phone. He couldn’t move. His phone dropped into the snow with nerveless fingers.

“Join me,” her cold breath caressed his cheek. “Join me…” 

His teeth rattled together and from a distance, he could hear the sound of his phone ringing. The ringtone. He knew that ringtone. _It was Castiel. Castiel._

Her lips closed over his and slowly the cold went away. It began at his lips, diffusing through his chest and down his limbs. She drew back. 

The phone was still ringing. 

Castiel. He wanted…needed…the angel. 

The lips touched his again, and the thought of blue eyes were gone. 

 

Castiel lowered the phone from his ear. “No answer.” 

“Maybe he’s still with the M.E.?” Sam glanced up from the microfiche he was studying, blurring past newspapers from forty years before. 

“Maybe.” Castiel was unconvinced, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip while his thumb toyed with pressing the call button again. He lowered the phone instead. “Perhaps you are correct. It is best we arm ourselves with as much information as possible before meeting with him again.” Castiel bent back over the tome he was reading. 

 

Sam narrowed his eyes in concern as he tried calling Dean for the third time. The street was powdered with a fresh dusting of snow. Clouds hung low and threatening, but though cold, it didn’t look like it would snow again.

 _“Hello?”_ The voice who suddenly answered was female.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “Who is this?” 

_“Police Officer Nicki Grey with the Falls City Police Department.”_

“Where did you find that phone?”

_“I’m currently outside the Medical Examiner’s office on Locke Street. Who is this?”_

“Agent Lane. That phone belongs to my partner, Agent Allen. Is there…” Sam met Castiel’s concerned gaze. “Is there any sign of him there?” 

“ _No, Agent. The street is deserted but for a few parked cars.”_

“Is there a 1960’s Chevy Impala there.” 

_“Under snow, but yes.”_

“Can we meet you at the examiners office?”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Sam hung up. “Cas, we have a problem.” 

Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets and stared grimly at Sam. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” 

“I don’t know, Cas. But I don’t like it.” 

 

The two men strode toward Locke Street. Sam’s steps hitched at the sight of the Impala partially buried in snow. It looked like there had been a heavier snowfall here compared to the library. 

“Perhaps he was merely indoors, waiting out the storm?” Castiel asked softly. 

“Then why was his phone lying in the snow?” Sam grimaced. 

They headed indoors, and the young officer was waiting for them. She handed over the phone with a pitying look. “I’m sure he just got himself someone out of the snow. Maybe the phone dropped out of his pocket.” 

“Do you know who Agent Allen talked to in here?” Sam asked, handing the phone to Castiel. “Check that, will you?”

“That would be me, agent.” An officious looking young man interrupted the conversation. “He said he was going to the hotel to wait for you.” 

Sam’s gaze ticked between the two, and had no reason to doubt their word. 

“Sam?” Castiel’s voice was hushed. “I think…I think I know what happened. Come on.” He gripped Sam’s sleeve and tugged him toward the door, before moving swiftly outside himself. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Out in the cold, standing beside the Impala, Castiel’s gaze was fixed on the phone screen. He was typing something in. 

“Cas? What’s going on?” Sam asked desperately. “Do you have a lead?” 

“Yes. Get in the car, Sam.” 

“I don’t have keys. Dean had them.” 

Castiel glanced up, irritated. He flicked a hand. The locks disengaged. Sam didn’t question it, just leapt in behind the steering wheel. The engine started as soon as he made himself comfortable. 

“Okay, what’s happening, Cas? Tell me.” 

Castiel turned Dean’s phone around. A photograph filled the screen. It was dark, with a blur of white, and a single in focus object at the centre. 

“A snowflake?” Sam frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Look closer.” Castiel shoved the phone toward him again. 

Sam squinted, peering at the photograph. He tilted his head, pinching his fingers and sliding out to zoom. “Is that…a bee?” 

“Yes.” Castiel’s hands rested quietly in his lap. “A snow bee. We need to get back to the library.” 

“We have to find Dean.” Sam tossed Dean’s phone onto the seat between them, his hands clenching white on the steering wheel. 

“I need more information from the library. I think…I believe I know what this is.” 

Sam snapped. “What the hell do you know, Cas?” 

Castiel’s voice remained serene. “I need to look at an old book. ‘Snedronningen’. That’s a snow bee Dean took a photo of.”

“Not following, Cas. What is Sned…Snedro…” Sam trailed off, stumbling with the pronunciation. 

“Hans Christian Anderson wrote a version of the legend.” 

“You want to read a fairytale?” Sam was disbelieving. “Cas. Come on.” 

“Demons and angels you believe in, and not fairytales?” Castiel asked softly, still staring out of the windshield. “Trust me, Sam.” 

Sam clenched his jaw, his teeth audibly grinding. “Fine.” He jammed Baby into gear and reversed out into the white blanketed street. 

 

“There.” Castiel turned the book around and gave it to Sam. “The Snow Queen.” 

Sam read silently for a while. He sat back and met Castiel’s gaze. “So these snow bees have stung him? And the shards of the mirror? Are they part of this too?”

“Perhaps. The mirror is a separate part of the legend. It turns the person who is injured by a shard into a person who is without thought or feeling for others.” 

Sam groaned. “We just gone done with him having the Mark.”

“I know. But these bees. The bees could incapacitate him, allowing him to be kissed by Snedronningen.” 

Sam didn’t miss the edge of anger in Castiel’s calm voice. Dean being taken and kissed by some deranged fairytale royal was not leaving him unaffected. “Why does it matter if he is kissed?” 

“The first keeps him protected from her cold.” Castiel’s gaze shifted uneasily and he stood up to pace. “The second makes him forget about us. The third means his death.” 

“Three kisses?” Sam swallowed. “Hell, Cas. What do we do? Say this Queen does have him. How do we get him out?

Castiel gripped the back of his seat, and the wood creaked ominously. “We have to find where she is staying. Where the snow fall is thickest. We get past the snow bees. We find Dean and we …convince him to leave.” 

“Just like that?” Sam sounded doubtful.

“I don’t know.” Castiel snarled, as the chair shattered into fragments by one flex of his fingers. He threw the shards he was still hanging on to and they skidded and clattered across the floor.

Sam leapt up, staggering back a few paces. “Cas. Okay, calm down. We will get him back, alright. We will. He’s been through worse and come out the other side. This time he’s got both of us.” 

“We have to get him back before he gets taken to the permafrost.” 

“What does permafrost have to do with it?” Sam frowned in confusion.

“Her castle. It’s in the permafrost in Norway, I think. She gets him to the castle…I’m not sure we can get him back.” 

“How do we know she hasn’t… ?” 

Castiel moved so fast he was barely visible, and he gripped Sam’s shirt. “We just have to hope like hell that Dean isn’t the last soul she wants this cycle.” 

Sam reached up and gripped Castiel’s shoulders. “We will get him back.” 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Sam swiped his fingers across his tired eyes. The glare through the windshield was stinging them. He leaned his head back on the rest, trying to ease the throbbing in his skull. 

“Where next?” Castiel was driving, heading back down a bumpy lane that had turned out to be a bust. He turned onto the highway. “Sam?” 

“Sorry.” Sam jerked his head up. They had been at this for hours. The sun was slowly setting, shards of rosy light glimmering over the hills. He returned to the laptop and typed again. “Okay, there is another place five miles down the road. This is Mrs Heaten. Her husband Chris apparently died due to hypothermia according to the M.E.’s report.” 

Castiel scowled. “What does the police report say.”

“Same thing. Mrs Heaten witnessed it. He had returned from a hunting trip. She found him only a few yards from the front steps.” 

Castiel considered Sam’s words. “I wonder where he went on that hunting trip.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

 

“Mrs Heaten, I am so very sorry to disturb you at this time. I’m Agent Lane, I’m with the FBI. This is Agent Dixon. We were brought in to town over a series of disappearances that have occurred over the past two weeks.” Sam gestured between them, flashing his badge. 

The woman was pale, buried in layers of winter clothing as though she couldn’t get warm. 

“I don’t understand. It was an accident.” Her face crumpled a little, but she held it together. 

“Yes. We know. It may have no bearing on our case but we wanted to speak to you in any case. Is it alright if we come in?” Sam was using his gentle voice to best effect, even as Castiel shifted impatiently beside him. 

“Sure. Okay.” 

“Thank you, Mrs Heaten. We appreciate your time.” Sam followed the woman into the house, and she gestured for them to sit in the lounge-room, overstuffed couches facing each other next to the crackling fire in the hearth. Mrs Heaten drew her legs up under herself, curled up in one corner of a couch with Castiel and Sam perched opposite. 

“What do you want to know?” she rasped through a throat raw from frequent tears. 

“Ma’am, uhh,” Sam glanced first at Castiel. 

“Where did your husband go hunting?” Castiel interjected. 

Mrs Heaten looked at him wearily. “They went to a place about half an hour from here.” 

“Who did he go with?” Castiel leaned forward, his eyes intense. 

“Manny Coulson and Roger Brown. They all went up together to the cabin. I don’t know about them. Chris came back alone a few days early.” 

“Was it snowing?” 

“I don’t…” Mrs Heaten looked at Sam, then back to Castiel. “Yes. I suppose it was.” She frowned. “It definitely was. I remember looking out of the kitchen window and seeing start up to the north just on sundown. I closed up the barn and garage before it could come in.”

“The police report said you found him in the morning.”

“That’s right.” Mrs Heaten stared at the fire. “So I don’t think I can help you.” 

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Castiel said. “But I don’t think that is what happened.” 

She looked at him sharply. Sam nudged him. Castiel ignored him, just meeting Mrs Heaten’s regard steadily. She shifted uncomfortably. 

“What happened, Sarah?” Castiel’s deep voice was hypnotically calming. “What did you see that your mind won’t let you believe?” 

Her hands were clenched into white knuckled fists. “Why does it matter? Why?” 

“You saw her, didn’t you? The Snow Queen?” Castiel leaned forward. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Uhh, Cas?”

“How did you know?” she whispered.

“She kissed him, didn’t she? Three times?” 

“She wasn’t a real person, was she?” 

“No.” Castiel shook his head. “She isn’t.” 

“She kissed him, and he died. He got out of the car.” She was twisting her hands in her sweater, staring dry eyed at the coffee table between them. “He got out of the car. He looked…he looked cold. His lips were blue, y’know?”

“Did he come into the house?” Sam asked. 

“Yes. I mean…no. He stood at the bottom of the steps. It was really driving out there. Solid snow. I came to the door to let him in. But he …he shouted at me.” 

“What did he say, Mrs Heaten?” 

“‘Get inside, Sarah. You get inside and don’t let the bees in!’” Her thin voice was strident as she gasped the words. “And he was pulled into the snow. When it stopped he was lying there. Blue lips. Blue fingers.” 

“We are going to find her and stop her. Where is your husband’s hunting cabin.” Castiel was emphatic. 

“Stop her?” Sarah’s voice trembled as she glanced between the two men. “How do you stop something…like her?” 

“We don’t know yet. But we are going to figure it out.” 

Sarah stared at both of them hard. “You aren’t FBI, are you?” 

“No.” Castiel said before Sam could disseminate. Sam had just given up on the FBI ruse though. 

“So why do you care?” 

“She has the man that …” Castiel hesitated. “She has Sam’s brother.” 

“Oh.” Her mouth turned down sadly. “I’m sorry. I hope you find him.” 

 

They headed to the car with the directions tapped into Sam’s phone. 

They sat in the car, this time Sam behind the wheel. Castiel started it for him. 

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes?” Castiel was composed again. 

“What were you going to call Dean back there?” 

Castiel paused, stared down at his linked fingers. “My friend, of course.” 

Sam studied Castiel but didn’t press. “Let’s get going.” 

 

They parked the Impala outside the hunting cabin. It was set amongst incredible scenery. It was silent. No birdsong. No brush of small critters through the snow. Only the crunch of their boots as they mount the steps to the cabin. 

Sam drew out his gun and nodded at Castiel. They went into the cabin, quickly securing it. There was no one there.

Sam drew out his phone and called the Falls City Police Department. 

“Officer Grey? This is Agent Lane. Could you tell me if two men have been reported missing?” 

_“Uhh. Yes, sir. What’re their names?”_

“Manny Coulson and Roger Brown.” 

There was the sound of keyboard clicking as Grey consulted a computer screen. 

_“You there, Agent?”_

“Yes, Officer.” 

_“Manny Coulson’s wife put out a missing persons on him two days ago. Roger Brown has no known contacts in the area. Can I ask what this is regarding?”_

“I’m up at their hunting cabin and the place is empty.”

_“They might be out hunting, sir.”_

“All rifles and safety gear are still here.”

_“Alright. I will get a car up that way to check it out.”_

“Thank you for your help, Officer.” 

Sam shoved the phone back in his pocket. Castiel was hovering near a small desk, sorting through a set of papers. 

“What’s that?” 

“Maps of the area.” Castiel held one up. “We can’t take the Impala that far off road. There is a house up there. In the hills. They have this marked as their hunting trail several days ago.” 

Sam grimaced. “Trekking on foot across that much snow isn’t my favourite thing.” 

“I will go.” 

“What? No.” Sam shook his head. “No you can’t go alone.” 

“I’m an angel, Sam. According to the lore, I will remain unaffected by her snow bees. If you go in, if you get too close, I will have to save you too. I have to focus on Dean. I can only focus on Dean. I’m not even certain I can get him out.” 

“Well, I’m going part way with you then.” 

“Very well.” Castiel turned to the door, ramming the map into his pocket. 

 

It was cold. Snow lay on the ground, and icy swirls coiled around their bodies. Sam felt every lash of it, and huddled into the extra coat he had yanked from his bag in the Impala, and yanked the grey beanie a little further down over his ears. 

Castiel hadn’t wanted to bother. 

“I don’t get cold,” he had stated matter of factly. 

“Yeah well, when you get Dean out, he is going to want a coat.” 

Castiel frowned. “Yes. That makes sense.” He held out his hand for Dean’s old coat and shrugged into it after carefully draping the trench coat in the back seat. The shoulders were broad on him, and the battered canvas didn’t match the suit he normally wore.  

Sam scrambled about for potential weapons. He considered, and shrugged, ramming several items into a backpack. 

“Okay.” He hefted the heavy bag onto his shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

 

 

The overland going was tough. Snow lay in drifts that were deceptive, but in a matter of hours, the man and angel, breathing in white huffs of smoke, stood staring up at what could only be a castle on a hill. 

Sam broke the silence first. “Well ain’t that a thing.” His face registered his surprise.

Castiel let the angel blade slip down into his hand. 

“You think that will do much against whatever has Dean?” 

Castiel spun the blade lazily. “Stabbing something with an angel blade can kill a remarkable number of things.”

Sam nodded. 

 

Castiel felt the first sting, but it was ineffectual. He brushed off the bee.

Sam winced as something brushed his cheek. “I’m gonna back up, Cas. Looks like you are on your own from here.” 

“I will be fine, Sam.” Castiel set his shoulders resolutely and strode through the snow that covered the arching ramp up to the front gates of the Snow Queen’s castle. 

 

The long hallways were freezing. Castiel moved through carefully, eyes watchful. He could feel Dean was here. Close. 

He pushed open the double doors of the great hall and went still. Dean stood in the middle of the room before a table. There were puzzle pieces on the table and moving slowly, he tried to fit each one together. 

“Dean?” Castiel called softly. 

Dean made no move that he heard. 

Castiel approached carefully, his feet skidding a little in the ice. 

“Who enters my realm?” An impaired voice echoed around the chamber. 

Castiel raised his blade.

“That will not affect me.” A tall woman, clad in white wisps, cobwebbed icicles and the deepest blues of the ocean, moved with unholy speed and grace toward him. Her eyes were solid black, the skin around them crusted with glittering blue and white stones and an unearthly shade of pale blue. Her white hair rippled almost to the ground, entwined and knotted with wintery winds. A crown sat atop her brow, the jagged points suggestive of the very ice she had control over. “How did you get past my little ones?” She leaned closer, her movements snakelike as she seemed to scent him. She drew back. “An angel.” Her brow furrowed. “What business has an angel here?” 

“You are Queen Snedronningen?” Castiel asked when he found his voice, his breath coming in white clouds. 

“Not many know my true name.” The Snow Queen gestured. “Why does an angel enter my realm?” 

“I came for Dean.” 

She tilted her head curiously. “If he wishes to leave. He can. But he has to complete my puzzle.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Just like that. He completes the puzzle.” 

“Just … like… that.” She smiled at him and it was terrifying. “But my patience isn’t limitless. Once the venom from my bees reaches his heart, he will belong to me forever.” 

“Take me,” Castiel said softly. “I will stay in place of Dean.” 

The Snow Queen studied his face thoughtfully, a small enigmatic smile curving her teal hued lips. “An angel can never truly belong to me.” She reached out and trailed her fingertips over Castiel’s face. “I only ever take humans.” 

“You are killing them.” Castiel hissed from between teeth that were clenched shut with cold. 

“No. They are quite alive.” The Snow Queen stepped back. “Go on then. Convince him.” She gestured toward Dean. “If you can.” 

She swept away in a flurry of snow. 

Castiel shuddered unconsciously and moved swiftly toward Dean. 

“Dean.” He stood in front of the hunter. His suit was coated in rime ice. His lips were blue, his face pale. His fingertips trembled at they touched the ice puzzle. 

Castiel stared at the puzzle. It didn’t look like anything other than random chunks of ice with some smooth faces and etched symbols. Dean didn’t respond. His lips were moving though, very slowly, with no sound falling from them. 

Castiel curved his hand over Dean’s. The fingers stilled. Castiel reached up and touched Dean’s freezing skin. 

“Dean, I’m here.” 

Dean’s eyes slowly met his, inky darkness slowly overtaking the olive green. His mouth moved again. 

“You can leave if you finish the puzzle.” 

Dean’s hands slowly clench into fists and his eyes fill with desperation he couldn’t express. 

Castiel let go of his hand. He reached up and curved his hands around Dean’s face. He closed his eyes and his palms glowed with grace. When he opened his eyes again, Dean remained, still chilled, still with barely any green left in his eyes. 

“That won’t work, foolish angel. Your grace is no match for my power. His heart is almost frozen.” The Snow Queen’s disembodied voice taunted him. “What will you do?”

Castiel turned back to Dean without answering the Queen. In desperation, he put his hands on Dean’s face and drew him physically down into a kiss. Dean didn’t respond. 

Castiel whispered against his lips. “I need you, Dean. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Nothing. Dean stood, unresponsive. 

Castiel deepened the kiss.  

A touch at his waist had him pulling back, breath coiling before him in wispy clouds. 

“Dean?” 

Dean’s lips were still blue, his skin still frosted, but there was a warmth in his eyes. 

“Hey, Cas.” His voice was a rusted rasp. “I prayed for you.” 

Castiel enfolded Dean in an embrace, face buried in the chill of his neck. His lips pressed against the smooth arch of Dean’s neck. He could feel the shivers wracking Dean’s body as he warmed. 

“Wait.” Castiel pulled back. 

“Cas…” Dean protested, a slow flush of warmth colouring his cheek. 

Castiel wrestled the thick jacket from his shoulders. “Here.” He helped Dean into it and tugged the front closed. 

Dean didn’t let him step back again. He folded Castiel in his arms and tugged him close.  

“So warm,” Dean said gratefully. 

Castiel’s arms crept back around Dean’s back and when their lips met again, it was with a heat and awareness borne of six years of unfulfilled need. 

This time when they broke apart, Dean’s colour was back to normal, his breath coming in pants that had nothing to do with the chill. His eyes glowed with warmth. 

“Want to finish the puzzle?” Castiel asked, a relieved smile curling his lips. 

“Yes. Hell yes.” Dean let go of Castiel long enough to pick up the pieces of the puzzle. Without his slowly freezing heart stopping him, and Castiel by his side, he manipulated the pieces into their positions. When the last segment slotted in, the runes on the ice sculpture of a phoenix in flames glowed bright. 

Dean and Cas shaded their eyes and when the glare faded they lowered their hands. The Snow Queen stood before them, hair shifting and moving in an impossible way. She smiled at them both. 

“The only thing to warm a heart. True love.” She reached up and touched Dean’s face. “Don’t waste it, Dean Winchester.” 

He flinched away from her touch, but she ignored him. She looked toward Castiel, and bowed her head. “I would not have suspected that the Angel of Thursday could have fallen in love with a human. You won’t see me again. Farewell to you both.” 

A sudden whip of wind surrounded them both. Dean searched for and found Castiel’s hand. They closed their eyes against the stinging cold and flinched away. 

Suddenly it was quiet. Cold, but quiet. 

“Hey! Dean! Cas!” The familiar voice of Sam echoed across the snow. 

“Sam,” Dean called out to him. 

Castiel took a slow breath and shifted to move away from Dean. He knew his hunter. In the presence of his brother, he would not care for the raw emotions they had shared. 

He couldn’t have been more surprised when Dean didn’t let him go. A warm hand clutched around his. 

 

“Are you alright?” Sam stumbled to a half before them, peering at Dean, trying to discern any wounds. “The castle just …disappeared. I was afraid you guys were stuck there.” 

“I’m fine. Cas saved me,” Dean said hesitantly. 

“Yeah. He was pretty damn determined to get through to you.” 

Dean’s mouth half curved in a smile as he turned his head to look at Castiel. The angel’s expression was a little perplexed, as he stared down at their joined hands. 

Dean took a steadying breath. This was his angel. This was Cas. And there was one very important thing he had not said to him. 

“Cas. I freakin’ love you. Have for a real long time. Sorry it took a crappy thing like this to get me to say it.” 

He didn’t even look at Sam to clock his reaction. He slid his fingers into the hair at the back of Castiel’s head and kissed him fiercely. 

“About damn time.” 

Dean jerked his head back to look at his brother. With an impatient expression, Sam hefted his bag onto his shoulder. He called back to them. 

“Meet you at the car.” 

Dean stood with his mouth open, staring after Sam. “What the hell did he mean ‘About damn time?’” He looked at Cas for clarification. 

Castiel sighed. He started trudging after Sam, tugging Dean into motion. 

“Cas?” Dean crunched through the snow as he followed his angel boyfriend.

“Let’s go home, Dean.” 

 

 “Do you think she was really evil?” Dean asked Castiel, as he stared up at the ceiling. They lay in Dean’s bed, Dean in sleep pants and t-shirt, Castiel in the same, situated facedown close beside him. His hand was splayed on Dean’s chest and Dean slowly rubbed his thumb over Castiel’s knuckles. 

Castiel hummed thoughtfully. “A little. But not completely. She does give her victims the chance to escape, albeit a small one. I hope we don’t have to deal with her again too soon.” 

“And I guess she is a bit of a romantic really.” Dean said consideringly, turning to look at Castiel. He lapsed into silence, staring at the incredible face, the bright eyes, the warmth in them. He reached out and skimmed his thumb over the sharp blade of Castiel’s jaw. “And I suppose she was the reason I finally got my head of out my ass.” 

“That must have been uncomfortable for you.” Castiel deadpanned. “I didn’t think you were quite that flexible.” 

“Smart ass,” Dean muttered. 

“Your smart ass.” 

“Yes,” Dean said softly. “My smart ass.” Dean huddled in closer to Castiel’s warmth. 

 


End file.
